The great doors swung noiselessly inward and revealed a spectacle. The ceilings rose high above, and individual spires dotted the four corners of the room, flying ever higher. A mural done in hues of gold and crimson marked the ceiling, a nude of Desmerada reclining in a bath of blood. Artemis would have called it gaudy. I just called it pathetic.
Guards lined the walls of the room, easily numbering close to five hundred. Their eyes remained ahead, though I knew they watched. To my right lay a body, shriveled and drained. Next to it sat a woman. Her eyes were downcast, and she was chained to one of the thick stone columns that supported the ceiling. Her disheveled hair hung around her face, and her robes were ripped and soiled. Another of Desmerada’s victims. She glanced up as I passed, and—winked at me? I arched an eyebrow before returning my gaze forward.
At the very back of the room, a golden throne was perched high atop a number of steps. There, lounging in a crimson robe, sat Desmerada. A draping gold and crimson banner hung above the dais, and Desmerada’s visage looked at them from several paintings and busts scattered around the chamber. She had carved herself into every corner of the Bloodkeep.
Lord Sanguine stood to her right, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. A handful of nobles waited at the base of the stairs, watching the scene with stony countenances. They wore fine clothes, like Sanguine’s, and each was decorated with a crimson sash.
The guards dropped Paris’s cage with a clang. The smell of his burnt flesh wafted over to me, almost making me gag. I choked back my need to free him and the even greater need to destroy anyone who would treat him so cruelly.
I glanced at the queen for only a moment before training my gaze on the floor, lest I give away my intentions. But I didn’t need to worry. The queen’s attention was focused on Paris, still locked in the silver cage. He stood, back straight, facing his fate.
Desmerada cackled with delight. “My prize is finally here.”
She pranced down the steps, her stilettos clacking on the marble as the nobles moved aside for her. Her crimson robe was only loosely tied, revealing her pale skin beneath. Her long black hair almost swept the ground, an ebon waterfall at her back. She was a beautiful nightmare. She strode past me, never even looking at me, and approached Paris. I turned my head slightly and kept the queen in my peripheral vision. Keeping a low profile was key, as facing Desmerada fully would no doubt undermine my performance as nothing more than Artemis’s servant.
“Askenith.” Derision oozed from her.
Paris didn’t respond.
“So handsome, my prince. Or, you’re trying to be king now, right?” She clucked her tongue against her teeth.
Desmerada ran her fingers around the bars as she circled him, her skin scorching as she went. “If I didn’t need you dead so badly, I would take you to my bed and fuck you until you screamed for mercy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” His tone was acid.
She stood before him and opened her robe. “Does it look like I’m flattering myself?”
“I’ve seen better.” I could hear the smirk in his voice, imagine the corner of his lips turning up just to bait the queen. I stifled my own smile.
The queen shook the cage, her rage quick and consuming. She latched on to the bars, reminiscent of one of Arachne’s spiders. “You will suffer, Priam’s bastard. You aren’t even worthy to stand in my presence.”
“Yeah, it’s been a real pleasure. Can we get on with this? I don’t think I can bear to look at your face any longer, much less the rest of you.”
She dropped from the cage and turned her back to him. “You don’t fool me, king—you’re still the coward you always were. Running from battle. Crying to your father to save you. It’s pathetic, really. You would never have been strong enough to rule Bloodkeep. Priam’s power died at the end of Menelaus’s blade. Just like the rest of your family.”
She tied her robe back together before facing him once more.
“It’s funny, you know. My seer”—she motioned to the withered body in the corner—“informed me that I would fall this very day. But here I am, alive and well. And there you are, trapped in the cage where you will stay until I take your worthless head. So, perhaps he was half-right. A ruler of the Bloodkeep will fall today, but it won’t be me. Half-right prophecy, all-dead seer.”
She pointed to the chained woman. “You would do well to remember that.”
Desmerada’s gaze bored into my back. “And this is the maiden you told me about, Sanguine?”
“Yes, my lady. She has come for the bounty.”
“Pretty, pretty.” Desmerada stood behind me and ran a hand through my hair. “Maybe instead of Paris, I could take this one to my bed. Her blood smells positively honeyed. I suppose you could still be considered a maiden after I’m done with you. I could show you a few tricks for your sisters.” The queen snaked her tongue out and licked the runes on my neck. I stood still, tamping down my disgust as I played my part. I stared at the floor, never raising my face to Desmerada’s.